Artistic Integrity
by TheGingeryOne
Summary: A celestial envoy's duty is to inspire faith in the gods. And that includes illustrating the gods' adversaries, whether he wants to or not...


Artistic Integrity

_13/08/2012_

There's something about painting that just brings him to life. The brush flies across the page, almost of its own accord, as he stains the once-pristine sheets with every colour under the rainbow to re-create the wild, white majesty he'd travelled with. It's hard to do her true glory, certainly, but at the same time...satisfying. Because underneath the failed attempts (neatly scattered across the room into a patchwork where he can test colours or sketches or something) there's a masterpiece. No matter what the backdrop to the paintings- the tumbling roots of Konohana, Ryoshima's waves or even the snow-covered expanses of Kamui that have to catch the shadows _just so_- she always takes centre stage.

Okami Amaterasu. Powerful and kind.

Some of his more popular pictures are of Amaterasu restoring life from a burnt and scarred scrap that used to be land. Blossoms dancing across sunshine, clouds clearing to show off dawn...even tiny acts of kindness, like returning that man's rabbit...they all inspire faith. They're lovely to look at.

But today, Issun feels he must try something new. His grandfather's work, poetry and pictures, hang around the room for inspiration. Shiranui and Nagi. The man from the Moon Tribe. The Celestial Brush.

Today, he's painting demons, but not in battle.

He's drawn them in battle plenty of times, after all. Heck, Amaterasu and Orochi preparing to fight is his second most successful work, after 'The Rising Sun'. Yet...only drawing them in battle doesn't seem...right.

Demons or not, they played a part. Even if he'll never show this to anyone.

He starts with the minor ones; imps and the like. They're easy enough, a free and comical nature bursting out with the image of them at a bonfire...and his personal favourite, Ajimi the chef. Even in the images, it's clear- leant over a pot, stirring brew and, of course, falling into his own appetiser. Issun laughs as he adds colours. Imps might be a nuisance, but damn they knew how to live.

Next comes a bigger boss. The Spider Queen...though admittedly he's taken some license with her. Oh, fine, he trotted around Agata Forest and Tsuta Ruins to find information on what she was...but that probably didn't justify drawing an eight armed woman flirting with Ume. Nor did it justify the enormous breasts. But there's more than that, the woman eating, looking over a party of imps, even one in full spidery glory, ready to leap on her prey.

The Queen's not exactly hard to draw, but she is hard to draw without turning it into some sort of pornography. Or maybe that's just Issun.

Even so, he wonders if the Queen would like it.

And then Crimson Helm, ablaze with fire, and more difficult that the Queen to draw in anything other than a rage. Of course, the Queen did show a sense of personality but the skeletal monster...he didn't speak, he just snorted. Nonetheless, he has resolved to do this, and do it he does. It takes more than a month, but Issun manages...the boar is asleep, tongue lolling out and belly full.

Amaterasu only knows why he drew it like that, but she probably wouldn't care.

After that, Blight. Blight seems like a caricature, and is not nearly as bad as Crimson Helm. The sword was bold in words, and easy to draw trailing destruction...but much funnier to draw pretending to be the emperor and making stupid demands. Jewels, food, even one of him and Kaguya, where the young lady appears to be hitting him with something.

Ninetails.

Ninetails does not want to cooperate. Because Ninetails, although very easy to come up with ideas for, always looks like Rao...and discrediting the priestess is something he can't do.

The brush shakes as he tries to draw the fox lounging around on Oni Island, or chasing chickens, but it doesn't look nearly as free as the others. Ninetails is just too full of bad memories...

So he draws Tobi instead. Spirited, charming, beautiful Tobi...

Whose life was snatched away by the Lord of Ryoshima Coast.

For a few days, he doesn't paint. He walks around, silent, and wonders if the city still mourns for Himiko. If nothing else, it was clever of the fox to ensure that no one could tell the difference between it and Rao...

But it always comes back to the brush and eventually he's at it again. Except this time, it's motivated by anger.

Ink thrashes an image onto the page.

Glorious, golden Ninetails, roaring at the stars atop Oni Island.

He hates that one the most.

But it only gets easier for the next two. Lechku and Nechku, oddly enough, were legends he had grown up with. So, even if they were technically difficult to draw, ideas flowed freely and he often has to stop himself from sputtering mirth over his studio. The twins dancing, singing, chasing Tachigami because...that's what owls _do_, even malevolent mechanical ones. They're just fun, a break from the usual style to just enjoy himself with a pair of demons.

Even if the twins didn't speak, Issun did feel that they had a certain amount of humour to them. Perhaps it was the hats. Or the monocle. Or the popping heads.

Sometimes, he wonders what their mechanic was thinking and his heart goes cold once the laughter vanishes.

Orochi is never particularly difficult, because betraying his image is satisfying. He tried to kill Kushi, was defeated by Susano and Nagi (who had both been in similar states of undress...or in Nagi's case, cross dress) and that lightning head was impossible not to mock. Ajimi makes a reappearance for this (and he dares to hope that maybe the chef will get some recognition) serving his master a meal so vile that the snake looks about to vomit. Even better, the snake's at full power.

Besides, Orochi is his most popular subject that isn't Amaterasu. Probably because of how engrained into the public he is. People want to see him getting beaten. Rightfully so, Issun thinks.

...But there's one more, and he wants to bring the others to life more than even accepting this duty.

Thinking about it makes him go cold, palms sweating and clenched together. He distracts himself however he can. He paints pictures of everyone and everything he's ever seen; suddenly Ninetails and Crimson Helm are a breeze, perfectly presentable to the public. He visits his grandfather, laughing off the comments about his artwork. He watches Himiko's grave and the ruins of Ankoku Temple, wishing he had brought something to offer.

And he can't hide it forever. He is more than an artist- he is the Seventh Celestial Envoy, and it is his duty to present everything in Amaterasu's adventure.

He sketches his betrayal and has it done in record time. There's Waka, poised with a prophecy, ready to face destiny. There's even Amaterasu, drawn up in sunlight, poised to fight _it._

His brush falters though, when it comes to that thing. The eclipse. It shakes, bristles ruined and that's it. It feels like there's a block crushing his creativity.

It isn't a new feeling, not exactly, but it is unpleasant. More so when things start to happen.

His ink shatters. He falls in the rain, he nearly gets trodden on and he's starting to think that Ninetails must have been reincarnated as a regular fox because one will not stop trying to eat him.

It's a nightmare. It feels like the monster wants to actively prevent him from drawing.

Not that he'll let it stop him. Breathing deeply, he glares at the canvas and the pot of black, and he doesn't even bother to plan.

The strokes are broad and violent, filling pristine space with darkness rather than the colour black.

He doesn't know what the Emperor of Eternal Darkness looks like, nor does he care about the taboos of how it is depicted, so he draws in dramatic shadows that seems to leap from the page. Even when his hands are cut by misfortune, and his colours spill across the room like a violent storm has attacked inside, he paints and he waits and he does not sleep.

It takes more than a year to finish, for whatever reason. Maybe it's because of what happens when Chibiterasu comes to Nippon. Maybe it's because he has to paint new demons alongside this one.

Maybe it's because he keeps adding to it. And he does not stop.

But finally...while he rests on the Celestial Plain, still charred, the brush drops. He could swear that the ink ravages the land a little more.

But it is over and it is magnificent.

He has started with the imps, comical and jovial, dancing at the base. Then guardians, followed by the namahage and the clay soldiers; drifting just above them come the Tengu and Ubume. Goldfish wrapped in the garb of death flitter about, though the mirrors and demon wheels draw one's gaze through vibrant stylised elements. There's a blockhead, somewhere in there. Resilient things. The ogres...he has stuck to tradition with the ogres, illuminating them in rich red and deep blue.

Tobi and Ajimi, have extra details, perhaps special place as they appear near their masters in the grand scheme of things. Ajimi glows with delight at his recipe and Tobi seems to shine. Next to them comes The Spider Queen, this time with brilliant blood running down her mandibles, and she's lit up by the eternal flames cast by Crimson Helm. He looks as though he's in motion, softly gleaming in his own fire.

Orochi stands out, as usual, eight heads appearing to frame the group. Maybe that was his role. But Issun draws him in full golden regalia, not missing a speck of detail. It doesn't feel right any other way.

Blight after that, with every sword and arrow sticking out from its armoured body. He still stands in a fighting stance though, because if nothing else, Blight was a true warrior.

Ninetails stands in gold, again, with the mask on and demands respect. Not using Rao's body, obviously, but he's rendered Ninestrike in as much detail as he cares to remember. Issun must admit, if he saw that fox alone, he might think it a god as well.

The Twins stand or float in gentlemanly posture, gripping their hats and turning the time towards the audience. He could swear he hears ticking. One counts time, the other brings death indeed... The gold and silver make them look as though they are aristocrats from another time and another place. Indeed, again, perhaps they were.

There are others too, the ones that Chibiterasu described. Master Anura and Bullhead don't exactly look grand and threatening, in his opinion, but he has tried to capture their...presence. He supposes that Sen and Ryo look good enough, draped in tragedy and comedy all at once with their marvellous machine between them. He admits, he enjoyed drawing them. They had dedication to their work, even if they weren't very good.

King Fury holds a special position there, though he's not sure why. If Sen and Ryo had some comedy to balance their misfortune, King Fury is wrought with horror, all anger and sadness at once. The lute probably took the most attention. If the other members of the Moon Tribe are any indication, they value their instruments.

He wonders if Kagyua had one.

Who comes next but a...strange few. Umami, Aji, Asteroidean, the Witch Queen and, strangely, a character called Genji. He doesn't know how to describe them, not really. They're just...Chibiterasu was insistent upon telling him all of the monsters, not just the regular ones. Apparently Genji was a bit...creepy towards one of his partners. They don't look bad by any stretch, it's just that they all seem to stand out in their garishness, and considering that this picture also features actors and Ajimi, that's something of an achievement.

Mizuchi comes after them and Issun isn't quite sure what to make of his story. A demon that willingly sided with humans, but lost faith once war came...It acted for Orochi. Orochi's safe keeper. It's interesting to think...that out of all the places it would go to, Orochi would be the one.

And speaking of lost faith is a figure that makes Issun's throat stick. He met the kid exactly once, and thought he looked like Waka.

That was perhaps more tragic than even the half-baked one could have forseen. Kurow. Bright, gaudy, silly Kurow...who lost faith. Lost faith because of someone's good intentions. He worked hard on that one, bringing out the weapons just so, again with detail on the boy's flute. His hair shines gold, almost brighter than Lechku himself. With the wings, he looks like a cherry blossom that has become a Celestial. But his eyes are hardened into battle, face cringing in either anger or fear. Issun does not regret painting him that way...but at the same time, watching the figure hurts. He looks like he may fly away.

But he's hovering, still, next to King Fury. Because the Moon Tribe doesn't need any more tragedy.

And here comes the penultimate figure, Akuro, who if nothing else proved that the Knowing Jewel can be wrong. He's a wolf, in this image, the exact opposite of Chibiterasu...though he looks a bit older. Paws splayed out with claws on show, harsh crimson eyes are marks like blood against shadow coloured fur. The two crystals hang around his neck, poised to fight, as the black sun growls, face first.

He was not hard to draw. He was not hard to paint, because this was all procrastination for the grand finale.

Issun sighs and places his hand on the painting, and looks at the final figure.

At first, it is unassuming. Another mass of black, dead in the centre, that has taken the form of a human. Compared to everyone else...it is forgettable. Long, dark hair falls down its face, the robes hide its slim figure. But then you see the hands, mechanical and wrought with markings. The face is too, for that matter, eerie blue that almost glows.

The hand rests on Akuro's head, but it's the eyes that are the worst.

They're black, like the rest of him. Wide open, frozen into malice...it's like looking at a black hole.

The Emperor of Eternal Darkness. Tokoyami no Sumeragi.

Never to be represented in human nor animal form.

Issun still doesn't know why he did it. To be bold? Is that why misfortune plagued him?

But it is finished. And he is, despite the problems, proud.

"Presenting my latest masterpiece, the Dark Sun Rises." He feels a sigh in the back of his voice as he pulls off the covers, revealing his largest piece yet. Chibi whines a bit, but slowly pads up, sniffing the board and examining its details. Ammy acts similarly, though she's a touch more bold- occasionally batting a paw here and there, most noticeably over Genji. Of course, he does look the strangest...

Waka stands, flute in hand, mouth open. If there are words in this throat, they won't come out. Issun thinks he knows what the man is fixed on though, especially when that sob breaks his silence. He glides over, resting his hand over the men from the Moon Tribe. "I...I think they would have liked it." He forces it out, head bowed and gold hair falling over his shoulders. He really does look like Kurow. "Thank you, Issun. It's a wonderful painting."

Amaterasu gives a bark of approval. Chibi's tail wags, though he barks at the image a few more times. It stops when he sees Kurow again.

"Thanks." Issun smiles. "I've been working on it whenever I can." There's silence in the air, barring a shifting wind. It's cold- the cold that penetrates down to one's bones.

They are being watched by someone, or something.

For a moment, Issun thinks he sees the shadows move, and smile.

But when he looks again, they are gone.

They aren't coming back.

At least...Issun hopes they never come back.

The shadows watched them as they left.


End file.
